The Infiltration of Black Swan
by llynn20
Summary: Edward's family is falling apart and he has little recourse other than taking down the Black Swan company from within. Can he manage the impossible task alone or find an unlikely ally? Rated M for language.
1. Chapter 1: Getting In

**Disclaimer: **All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

I fucking hated the lot of them. I fucking hated myself for wanting to be one of them. But that was behind me. I could only make the most of the time allotted me. I didn't have a plan, only an opportunity, and I was going to use it.

I stood there in my mother's meager apartment, and put on my father's only remaining tuxedo. My eyes glared back at me, reflected through the remnants of broken mirror glass. I felt like a fraud. Dirty money paid for this tux, I was sure of it. It smelled awful—like mothballs. Hell, the whole place smelled that way. I'd have to be sure to freshen up when I got to my destination or the fuckers would chuck me out as if I was a well-dressed homeless man.

Which I was.

Three short years ago, I was a student at Julliard, riding a partial scholarship with the remainder funded by my parents, Dr. and Mrs. Cullen. I was a prodigy, my classmates used to tell me – a well-funded one at that. I knew I was lucky to be there and I'd like to say I never took it for granted, but like any kid with rich parents, I did. I was incredibly fortunate that they allowed me to be whoever I wanted rather than allowing society to dictate who I became. So I focused my energies on becoming a foul-mouthed, classically-trained musician with a penchant for the blues.

My parents lived in a modest and roomy apartment off Central Park West. Modest and roomy meaning expensive as hell. They paid for my room and board in a small apartment close to campus that I shared with my girlfriend Tanya. They took care of each other and me.

My mom, Esme, didn't have to work – she wasn't some _Real Housewives_ type, either – she volunteered. She loved to throw fundraisers and did all the decorating herself. She loved her life. My dad, Carlisle? Well, he was a mad scientist of sorts. He was incredibly talented in his job as a brilliant pharmacology engineer who specialized in contagious outbreaks. He said he wanted to prevent the next Spanish Influenza. He said he wanted to ensure healthy futures for kids.

So he went to work for Black Swan Pharmaceuticals. They had a lot of money to throw around for research. They paid dad a lot of money to just to stuff him away for eighteen hours every day and keep him traveling thirty weeks out of every year. He loved it and mom loved him for loving it. It didn't hurt that his passion afforded us a lifestyle where we didn't have to worry about money.

Then late summer rolled around. School was about to start, and with school came the rumors of 'the next big influenza' strain.

Dad was working on 'the next big influenza' vaccine and the head honchos at Black Swan wanted to get their shots out first. Dad came home everyday enthusiastic about the progress he was making, but swore up and down to me and mom that it wasn't ready yet. He told us that the strain he had been working with didn't match what was predicted to be the next outbreak.

Black Swan shipped him overseas for "training" and replicated the unfinished stuff he had in the lab while he was gone. Those fuckers did exactly what dad told them not to do, and before they could finalize FDA approval, they started human trials with those unmatched strains.

"Dr. Carlisle Cullen" was written all over those lab papers and his chicken scratch was signed on every dotted line. Gone were his official memos telling everyone, including the head honchos themselves, William Black and Charles Swan, that using the existing flu vaccine as it was would be like unleashing an invisible monster that would infect more than it cured.

But those fuckers over at Black Swan knew just how to cover their own asses, and they did it well. They trashed dad's reputation as an uncontrollable rogue and made him out to be a loony. Said it was his idea to test the vaccine without FDA approval and came up with some forged shit as evidence.

After dad's criminal trial for negligence, Black Swan sued him in civil court for all sorts of shit, like defamation of the fucking company's "character." So, not only was dad going to have to go to prison, he was also going to have to pay the fucking company whose fucking actions sent him to prison.

He got twenty-five years in some federal prison on the west coast.

Pretty fucked up, huh? And just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, they did.

We had to sell _everything_ to pay the settlement to Black Swan. Mom didn't want anything to do with them or that lifestyle anymore anyway and preferred living in squalor. Nobody believed her or dad that he was set up. Nobody but me.

I was promptly asked to leave Julliard because of who my father was. Isn't that a kick in the ass? It was my father's name that got me accepted in the first place. Tanya was a student there too and left me right after I was expelled for some horseshit reason. Privileged bitch. So much for "through thick and thin" bullshit.

My mom tried to be strong, but she's suffered a lot. Right after dad got sent to prison, she got sick. The doctors told us she needed a new kidney, but I knew she was heartsick, and it was just presenting through everything else. She was in a hospital we couldn't afford, hooked up to machines that filtered her blood for her, just waiting for death – her's or a suitable donor's.

She didn't know what I was up to and I tried my best to hide it when I went to visit. I wanted to go, just in case. Just in case I got busted and sent up the river, too.

Or in dad's case, out west. But that would be too lucky, to end up in the same facility as him.

My life wasn't based on luck anymore.

It was based on revenge.

So I gave myself permission to get violent if I didn't get answers, even if it meant I got sent to something higher than the minimum security prison dad now lived in.

I found out from my friend Jasper's girlfriend Alice that Black Swan was having some "kings of the world" bullshit celebration at their headquarters downtown. There was supposed to be some big announcement or something and all the bigwigs were supposed to be in attendance. Jasper got me a fake ID from some random guy named J. Jenks that was good enough to get me credentials as a server for the party. That was how hoity toity this event was. I needed credentials to be a fucking _server_.

I wasn't a James Bond or Jack Bauer so I had no idea how to get the information I needed to clear my dad's name while I was there. I figured if all the right people were at the party, then the offices would be clear and I could get what I needed then. That was as far as my so-called plan went.

I did as much looking into their families as I could beforehand. William Black had a son about the same age as me, Jacob. He looked like a real douche. I hoped to punch him in the nuts before the night was over. Charles Swan had a real prize in his daughter Isabella, who was crowned with the title "Princess" by all of the magazines which regularly featured her doing some stupid new guy every fucking week or something equally as appalling. I'd seen more of her body then I had anyone else's, even Tanya's. I hoped to punch her in her new boobs before the night was over.

I couldn't believe that I had to stoop so low as to fucking _serve_ these people, but it was for one night. Then I could get the authorities what they needed to get my dad out of prison and back with my mom, where he was needed. Sometimes you just got to do what you got to do. This was what I _had_ to do. I had to make this right, and take down the fuckers behind the worst pharmaceutical company fuck-up in recent history.

xoxox

I had no money for a cab and decided to just ride my bike over. I wanted to air out the mothball stench anyway. On my way over, I couldn't help but remember a joke my dad used to tell my mom. She never got the joke and would tell everyone anyway, not knowing that it shouldn't be discussed in polite company.

The recollection made me laugh so hard I nearly ran into a cab. I loved my mom. I bet she would've loved this party. If it'd been a fundraiser, she would've been there. Not me. They knew I didn't give a shit about social functions for brown-nose sake. It was a good thing the Black Swan asshats never met me, or tonight would be even more impossible than it already was.

I got to the parking garage and locked my bike to whatever was sturdy. I looked over and noticed a Ducati. Good indication of the kind of company I'd be keeping tonight. I wasn't much for motorcycles but wanted to test drive one ever since I saw the movie "_Yes Man"_.

I hit the elevator button and as it lowered to pick me up, I swore I could hear the high pitched sound that only emanated from one Alice Brandon coming from within it's sealed doors. She could get in a lot of trouble for hiring me tonight. Jasper wouldn't give her any details about why I wanted the job; she just knew that she needed to call me Anthony instead of Edward and to give me menial tasks that kept me away from the crowd.

"Ohmygawd, Edward, there you are," she drawled in her slightly over charming southern accent. She was a short powerhouse of a woman with a sharp suit and a barely-there headset on, barking orders at her invisible minions.

"Alice, that's not my fucking name," I seethed. I wasn't even in the place yet and she could've blown everything.

"Don't you dare curse in front of me—or the guests. I am doing this as a huge favor to Jasper and I don't want your lip." She shook her finger at me. Nobody _ever_ shook their finger at me.

"Fine. Where is the party and where am I supposed to be?"

"It's on the forty-second floor on the hospitality deck."

"Okay, what floor are the offices on?"

"I don't know Ed…thony," she huffed and corrected herself. "You'll have to find them on your own, if that's what you're after." She got right up against my chest and narrowed her tiny eyes. "You'd better not get caught or I'll lose my job."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." I rolled my eyes. This wasn't starting off very well. She took me by the elbow and marched me into the elevator, pressing the button for the forty-first floor. "I thought it was on the forty-second?" I started.

"The kitchen is on the forty-first floor, I need your help there until some of the other staff arrives." She stopped and inhaled, nose and mouth wrinkled in disgust. "Ohmygawd, what _is_ that smell?"

"Haven't you ever smelled mothballs?"

"Yes!"

I opened my mouth to deliver the punch line, but Alice glared at me too sharply. I shut my mouth instead. Alice did not smile. Not even a little. She looked at me in a way that was part glare, part revulsion, and part sympathy. "I can't have you going in there smelling like that. If I had any activated charcoal, you'd be at least smellable." _What the fuck did charcoal have to do with anything? _"I'll try to find another jacket for you to wear, or I'll have to give you a really unpleasant job."

"Alice, this isn't a real job, remember? I don't want you to know what I'm doing, but I don't have time to play games..."

The elevator door dinged our arrival but she slapped the DOOR STOP button. "Listen up, Cullen, if someone asks you what you're doing here, what are you going to tell them? Huh?" I didn't know what to say. I had no idea. "That's right. You need a job or you'll get chucked. Hell, I'll be the one chucking you. I need your help in the kitchen for a moment, and then I'll give you something menial to do. If someone asks, you'll have something to say." I hated conceding to her, but I had to.

"Okay, makes sense." She released the button and led me down a short hallway to the gleaming stainless steel kitchen. As soon as the door opened, we were greeted by an even higher pitched squealing sound, only it was accompanied by a nasal sound that rivaled Lily Tomlin's Ernestine.

"You can't serve that shit to my family!" She was right up in the chef's face. It was none other than Princess Isabella Swan and my fists instinctively balled. It was going to take every ounce of my being not to clock one of them tonight and I didn't even care that it might be her.

Alice dug her nails into my wrist and seethed between her teeth, "Don't look at her." _What?_ "If you want to be here, don't you dare look at her. Any help that's caught looking will be fired."

What. The. Fuck. I wasn't the fucking _help_. My face was red and my knuckles were white as I looked down. I was glad I didn't get a good look at her. I was glad my mother and father had no idea I was here. I remembered that I was here to get my dad out and it was the only reason I didn't make a run for it.

Alice herded me towards a table where there were stacks of cloth napkins that needed those stupid rings put on them. "You can't be serious, Alice…" I started.

"Shut it. I know you need information of some sort and the prep staff like to talk. If you're quiet, you might also overhear something that Princess has to say."

"Did you just call me Princess?" A lithe, unmistakable voice materialized behind us.

Isabella Swan stood right behind me. The hate I felt for her and her family radiated out of me and just about set me on fucking fire. Good thing I wasn't wiping down stemware or something because my hands would've been filled with glass and utterly useless on a piano.

Alice turned to face her, apparently immune to _the help_ rule. "No, not at all. Anthony was just telling me about his dog, erm, Princess." I was seething. I had no fucking _dog_. Hell, I had no fucking _home_.

"I have a dog named Princess, too. Odd. A guy with a Princess dog. What kind is yours?" I didn't turn around. Of course she would be the self-centered type that would have a dog named Princess, her very nickname. I didn't want to break the rules, or break anything else for that matter, and I just might break something if I turned to face her.

"Excuse me? I asked you a question." The venom made a swift return, and effectively coated her voice. She started to jab my shoulder with her fingers.

Alice saw the hatred in my eyes, and stepped on my foot as I turned to speak directly to _Her Highness_. I caught myself just in time and Alice instead offered, "Umm, Princess just died and Anthony's really upset about it. You understand, right?"

"Oh. I'm _so_ sorry." She patted the shoulder she had just poked. A bubble of inappropriate laughter burst out of my mouth, which barely passed as a sob. Good thing I wasn't looking at her. Good thing she wasn't looking at me. Of all the things this bitch should be apologizing for, it was for the death of an imaginary dog? "Umm. Elise? What… is… that… _smell_?"

I couldn't reign myself in any longer. "Have you ever smelled mothballs?" Alice's heel came down on the instep of my foot and I nearly knocked her off her feet.

"Umm, I don't know what he just said, but you have to do something about that. No way in hell is the _help_ going to be around my family, smelling like that. He smells like… ass."

I stepped out of Alice's reach, turned my face away, and managed to whisper: "Not ass… moth's balls."

"What did you say?" she demanded, inches from the back of my head.

"I smell like mothballs. Do you know what they smell like?" Fuck, I'd crossed the line but I couldn't seem to stop myself.

She hesitated, shifting from revulsion to confusion. "Mothballs? Of course I know what mothballs smell like," she snapped at me.

"How'd you get your nose between their tiny little legs?" My already quiet voice trailed off at the knowledge that I just fucked up big and that I would be asked to leave. I was so glad she couldn't see my face as I had already gnawed off half my lip.

Instead of addressing me, she spoke only to Alice, "I don't want to see him for the rest of the night. Since he smells like ass anyway, maybe he should be the men's restroom attendant. The shit food you're allowing the chef to serve is going to make everyone sick anyway, so he'll have plenty to do tonight." She huffed and stomped away.

"Fuuuck," I groaned. Dreams of my father's release slid down the drain once and for all.

"You couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you? Do you want to abort this little stupid plan of yours? Do you want me to lose my job?" Alice was pissed, but not half as much as I was. "She's going to have an eye on you all night. I'm surprised she let you stay."

I turned to Alice then, and saw that she _was_ more upset than I was. Still, it was me that was going to have to stand in that fucking restroom and pass out hand towels and mints and cologne.

"Al, I'm sorry."

She calculated as I apologized. "I'm going to see if I can find you a different jacket, maybe get you out of the bathroom so you can find what you're looking for. I'll ask around about the office level for you." Jasper must've told her about my connection with this place and people after all.

xoxox

Alice and I took the stairs up to the forty-second floor. I finally knew what Jasper saw in her now, beyond her rigidly organized exterior. She was cute as hell and nice. Although she didn't know me from the next guy, she was loyal to me and my cause. I never had a sister, but I wanted her to be mine now.

She told me about my duties as a restroom attendant and tried to make me feel better by saying that I might get some information as attendants weren't highly regarded but were considered trustworthy. I had to smile, be polite, offer compliments. Alice told me that the board of governors and higher ups might use this restroom too, even Swan and Black.

So I stood there waiting for people to come in and take a dump or whatever they needed to do. I smelled some of the cologne and ate some of the mints while I waited. I looked filthy, and felt filthy, but standing in a fucking john waiting to offer someone a hand towel made me want to gag. I couldn't believe I ever wanted to be one of the socialite fucks that attended shit functions like this.

From the bathroom I could hear someone doing the scales and tuning the very same baby grand we passed on the way here. I didn't even have to know his name to know who was playing. I never even learned his last name when we attended Julliard together. People just knew him as James. If he saw me, my cover would be blown.

Fuck. Why did this have to fall apart before I found out _anything_? What did I ever do to make the universe hate me so much? The only thing that could have made this night any worse would be to find out that Tanya was James' date for the evening.

Two old farts walked into the restroom then and stopped chatting as soon as they saw me. One eyed me warily and asked where some dude named Paul was. I smiled as politely as I could manage and said he had the night off. They shrugged and seemed to accept what I was saying.

They both looked under the stalls before proceeding to stand in front of the urinals. They seemed satisfied enough that I was too stupid to know what they were talking about. Little did they know…

"Depending on what's announced tonight, I might be resigning my position. I know it's been almost two years since the Cullen disaster, but the company still hasn't rebounded sufficiently enough for my liking."

"Shh… I don't think that's something we should be discussing in front of him," said the other and then looked toward me. I had my chin down and a vacant expression on my face.

"Oh, because of him? He's _just_ the bathroom attendant. Paul doesn't care if we talk around him."

"Paul's different. He's used to keeping his mouth shut. I don't know this new guy and I don't trust him." He stopped and let his eyes search the room. "Say the wrong thing around anyone here and you're sent to prison for twenty-five years." The inference to my father's fate almost did me in. I wanted to shake the fuck out of him and tell him just how much _he_ _really_ didn't know. But, not wanting to make the night any worse, I gritted my teeth and kept my mouth shut.

They approached the sink and I gave them each a comb and hand towel and they both gave me a tip. I didn't feel too badly about taking it. I hadn't eaten anything substantial in days.

As they left, Alice rushed in and ran to me. "Need… you… to play…" She struggled, out of breath from running.

"What?" I wasn't sure if I heard her correctly through her gasps.

"The piano. Jasper said you are good at playing the piano. I'm sorry."

"Alice, Princess told me I look like shit and smell like ass. She's sure to see me. And there is no way in hell I can get anything accomplished if I'm playing the piano. What happened to James?"

"He cut his hand and had to leave." Karmic retribution? "I need you to play until a replacement can arrive, and then on his breaks. I will make it work. There is an employee gym on the forty-first floor. Go take a shower, and I'll get you something else to wear."

Just then, another old fogey walks in, shocked to see Alice standing there in the men's room. She pulled my arm as he spoke to me, "Attendant?"

"No. Pianist." I shrugged as we made to leave.


	2. Chapter 2: Getting Even

**Disclaimer: **All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

I knew time was of the essence, but I did not want to leave that hot shower. The only time I got to take a good shower was either in the communal shower at a shelter or at mom's apartment, which was shared with the whole floor. There were two women and a dude who couldn't help but walk in on me every fucking time my towel dropped. You'd think I'd be adjusted to the lack of shower privacy by now, but I wasn't.

That shower was the best fifteen minutes of the whole fucking year. Alice came in, left the clothes and shoes and discreetly left, leaving me a note on the foggy mirror to get a jacket from the coat check girl.

I made my way back to the main area which was quickly filling with partygoers. I hadn't seen Swan or Black anywhere. Lucky for them. Maybe they were in the offices, getting ready to ruin someone else's life.

I couldn't help but be a little curious as to what the announcement was. As much as I wished for it, it was unlikely that they were going to confess what a bunch of assholes they really were or anything. Maybe they were going to announce a new saline breast implant division of the company and name it after Princess Isabella. Bitch.

I found the coat check area easily enough but couldn't find the coat check girl. I didn't have time to wait for her. I didn't want Alice to get into trouble for the absent pianist. So I looked around and headed through the doors of the coat closet. It was about the same size as my mom's entire apartment.

It didn't take long for me to hear them. They were loud enough that they didn't hear me enter. Any other day, I would've sat down and had me a little aural fixation. But the fact that two rich snobs were back here going at it made me fucking sick.

Then again, maybe I could get some dirt on who was fooling around. If I found out it was illegitimate… the possibilities were only too sweet to imagine. So I decided to wait in the dark.

"Please…" She moaned. "Not there… you can… here… not there."

"Just fucking let me." He growled.

Jackpot. Princess Isabella Swan and Prince Jacob Black. That was all I needed. I could just quietly exit, and wait for the right time to tell the press, if I was I so inclined.

"No," she squeaked. "I don't want…" My hackles went up instinctively at the desperate inflection of her voice, regardless of whose voice it was.

"I'm a fucking millionaire and you're telling _me_ no? Who do you think _you_ are?" He hissed.

"You think being a millionaire makes it okay?" Her voice cracked at her defiance yet became somehow smaller. "I'm a millionaire too and I said _no_." I heard someone take a few rough steps and then heard a thud. A small whimper escaped Isabella's mouth. "My daddy…"

"Your daddy doesn't give a _shit_ about you." He said it in such a straightforward manner that even I didn't doubt him.

The ache his words brought to my chest was almost more than I could bear. No one should be made to feel that low. I knew how it felt. And I'd had enough. I cleared my throat and turned on the closet lights.

"Excuse me sir, are you the coat attendant?" I asked Heir Turd, attempting to play as clueless as possible.

"Who the _fuck_ are you?" He eyed me up and down, assessing my importance based on my half assembled tuxedo. "_I'm_ Jacob Black, not some menial coat check clerk. Now get the fuck out."

I looked at her then, shoved between thousand dollar coats, back against the wall, and what I saw wasn't the Ice Queen I thought I knew. Instead, I got the briefest glimpse of a terrified little girl. Regardless, my heart turned back to marble with the realization that these two's problems weren't my own, no matter how Jacob's words made me feel. I pushed down the dull ache I felt at the sight of her and chalked it up to pity or resentment or some shit.

She shook her head, ever so slightly, which indicated that she was scared to be left alone with him. That one little gesture melted me all over again. The values my parents instilled in me all came rushing to the surface. No means no. A woman should never be treated this way. Her eyes continued to plead. She was half his size, _if I left…_ I stopped the thought before it could go any further.

"Ms. Swan, Elise would like your opinion on something the chef is serving, if you could accompany me to the kitchen?"

All of a sudden, Junior was in my face, screaming obscenities, as he tried to use his bulk to back me into a corner. I held my ground. "If you knew who the fuck _she_ was then you sure as hell knew who the fuck I was! You're just _the help_, no one gives a fuck about you!"

In an attempt to placate him as she struggled to right herself, she cooed, "Jacob, everything needs to be perfect for Daddy's announcement tonight. I will go with… Ed… err… him, and make sure of it. I will meet you later. You have to talk to the board of governors anyway."

"Fuck that. You are with _me_ tonight." He glared at her, looking for all the world like the next time they met in a dark place, she was going to get the shit kicked out of her. Then he looked at me. His distaste was evident, as was mine.

Tired of waiting for him to be chivalrous, I offered her my hand. She took it reluctantly, staring at me the whole time. As soon as her small hand was secure in mine, she changed demeanor from frightened child to socialite heiress in no time flat.

"Really, Jacob. I'll be right behind you. You have business to attend to. Let me just go see what the Chef needs, then I'll find you."

Junior glared at me again and walked out. As soon as he was out the door, we simultaneously realized that she was still holding my hand. I went to drop it, but she held on for a moment longer. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah," I said lamely. "Wait, why?"

"I'm not sure, but thank you."

"Look, I'm just in here to get a jacket, so don't go thinking I came in here to rescue you or anything." Damnit, I wished she'd stop looking at me that way. I couldn't forget the reason I was _really_ here—to save my family.

"Well you did anyways, so thank you." She shrugged a little, like it was no big deal. Junior could have been moments away from seriously hurting her; I had to do _something_. I tried to shake off her reaction.

"Whatever. I'll just get the coat and walk you out." I started looking around at where Alice might've set something aside for me.

"Alice usually keeps the tuxedo jackets back here," she waved her arm down the length of the closet. "Come on, I'll show you." She started toward the back of the closet. As she did, I took a real look at her. She really was beautiful. All those rag-mags make her look horrible, comparatively speaking.

I realized something then and had to call her on it, out of sheer curiosity. "Why would you call her Elise to her face while all along knowing her name was Alice?"

"My persona," she replied simply as she sized me up to find an appropriately sized jacket. Before I could manage a retort, she spoke, "Why did you stop smelling like ass?" Her slim fingers moved across the fabric of the jackets, coming to rest on one that she pulled out to look over. After wrinkling her nose, she put it back.

"Why, did you prefer it?" She looked at me, and rolled her big brown eyes. "Fine. Because I was told to and I'm playing piano instead of standing in the men's restroom all night."

"Do you always do as you're told?" She finally found one that seemed to satisfy whatever predetermined criteria she had and pulled it out.

"You know, I don't have to take this." I wasn't about to be belittled by her condescending attitude.

"Actually, you do. We're paying you to be _the help_, are we not?" She held the jacket up for me and I reluctantly turned around to slide my arms through the silk-lined sleeves.

If she was going to demean me, I was going to reciprocate by labeling her. "Fine, Your Majesty. How may I serve you?"

"Kiss me," she whispered in my ear, commanding me to obey and leaving no room for me to question.

It took me a fraction of a second to comprehend her order, a fraction more to understand it, and another half a second to take action. I spun on my heels and laced my fingers around her neck. I was furious that she was demanding this, and even more furious that I was giving her what she wanted, especially after the encounter with Little Black. I was beyond furious that I so easily succumbed to her demands and equally shocked to realize I wanted it for myself as well.

I poured my pent up fury into that kiss, and grabbed her perfectly-styled hair back to tilt her face up towards mine. I scraped her lips and tongue with my teeth in my desire to fulfill her demand. I hadn't kissed anyone like that, ever. I was pissed and didn't care that I might be hurting her. After I consumed her mouth I went to bite her neck, hoping to leave a mark she wouldn't be able to hide.

"That's it… I like it… rough." Her voice broke, choking on her tear-tinged whisper, which released me from my angry trance and brought me back with a jolt that felt like lightning striking my body. I dropped her and backed to the opposite end of the suddenly stifling closet. I hadn't even remembered picking her up.

"I… don't…" I whimpered. I was never rough with anyone. That was wrong. Very wrong. This was all going wrong. Why the fuck would I do that? To her? To anyone?

_Let's just throw self-disgust on the list of this evening's accomplishments._

"Of course you do. All men do," she spat at me. She turned away then, which hurt me much more than she could know and more than I could anticipate.

"I do not," I said, more loudly. My words were laced with anger, the very emotion I needed to cap. "You don't know me." I started to think I didn't even know myself. Why was I even kissing her in the first place?

Her own voice became forceful as she turned back to glare at me. "Then why did you think it was okay? Because Jacob thought it was okay?" She waved her small hand at me. "You're all alike."

Fuck. She had a point. I had let my anger, my hatred of her family take control, and it totally dictated my actions. Humbled and ashamed, I started, "I'm… I'm sorry… tonight isn't going very well… and…"

"Then by all means, take it out on me. Someone who you only presume to know, just like everyone else. If there is one thing you'll learn tonight, Edward, it's that you… don't… know… _me_!"

Alice opened the closet door then, just as Isabella rushed out. Part of me wanted to go after her, make her understand that my actions were completely out of character and apologize. Maybe even tell her—even though it fucking pained me to admit it—that she was right: I didn't know her. I shouldn't assume anything, especially if her assumptions of men all revolve around violent tendencies.

I took a step forward, but Alice was in my way. She stood there, and glared at me with her hands on her hips. "I'm so glad you found your jacket. Now get out there, play, and stop trying to get me fired!" I couldn't tell how much she had or hadn't seen from her tone. I hoped for the latter.

I hung my head and ran my fingers through my hair trying to sort through my jumbled thoughts. One question in particular seemed to weigh heavier than the others, though I hadn't picked it out of the mess yet. I took a deep breath and tried desperately to collect myself. Then, suddenly it was clear. "Al, did you tell her my name?" I asked her urgently. She shook her head vehemently, probably worried what my reaction would be if she had. How did I become someone people were _afraid_ of? "Well, she knows it, somehow." I couldn't begin to wonder where she picked it up.

"Knock it off, Edward. If she really knew who you were _and _your last name, there is no way in hell you'd still be here." She took me by the elbow and pulled me out of the coat closet. "Play classical musical only, quietly. There is a microphone, but no singing."

As we walked from the closet to the stage area, I rubbed my hands together to warm them, forgetting that they were still warm from my encounter with Isabella. My hands weren't the only thing that was warm. My whole body was very warm, vibrating in anticipation. It'd been months since I'd sat down to play.

I tried using the shelter's piano a few times, but it was so out of tune that sitting to play would make me feel worse. I wanted to play in the lobby of the hospital, but they wouldn't allow mom to leave her hospital room. We both knew it would help her feel better. The doctors didn't want to listen.

Alice was right next to me, escorting me to the piano. "I got it, Al. You can go now."

We stopped in front of the baby grand and she turned to me. "Do you really know what you're doing? I have a keen sense of when something is going to go wrong and that's the direction you've been taking since you stepped onto the elevator." She paused, considering. "Okay, I'm going to make this not about me and my job anymore and remind you that you're here for a reason." I nodded at her in agreement. "You will play for about twenty minutes before the pianist arrives. I suggest you check out the forty-eighth floor during your break. Use the stairs." I wanted to hug her for giving me the nugget of information I needed to start my search.

She was absolutely right. I was going to use this time at the piano to think of my plan of attack. Nothing else. I was here to exonerate my father, not think about some privileged heiress or the things I had done to her mere moments before.

With slight trepidation, I sat down at the piano. Part of me wanted to rejoice that I was getting to play this beautiful instrument and the rest of me was battling the fear that I had somehow forgotten how. Gingerly, I reached out a finger to touch one of the ivory keys. The rest of my fingers soon followed.

The keys of the piano felt so cool and smooth beneath my fingertips. The anxiety I was feeling moments before melted away as soon as my fingers made contact. I sat there for a few moments, soaking in the feeling. The first ten seconds sitting on that bench blew the fifteen minutes in the shower out of the water. This felt right, like I was exactly where I belonged. For the first time in months I felt in control of something. I played as softly as I could manage, but really, I wanted to just unleash it. I didn't want to play elevator music; I wanted to play the blues. Soulful, aching, sexy, deep blues.

As fmy mind settled into auto pilot, I began to concentrate on what was next. As soon as the pianist arrived, I'd head for the stairs and go up to the office floor. I figured I'd have about forty-five minutes before needing to return to play again. Hopefully, I'd be able to find dad's original memos. Then I realized what a company like Black Swan must use for a file archiving system and the levels of protection surrounding it and began to taste the bitterness of utter defeat.

I looked up just in time to see Charles Swan and William Black make their grand entrance. All around people began clapping. _What the fuck for?_ I considered playing the Darth Vader entrance music before thinking better of it.

Immediately behind their fathers, walked Isabella and Jacob. Isabella looked as if she'd rather be anywhere other than here. That was not the same Princess I remembered seeing in the tabloids. She seemed smaller, more fragile. She'd lost her swagger. This wasn't even the girl I met in the coat room minutes ago. She looked completely defeated and hopeless. I knew hopelessness when I saw it, mostly in my own reflection.

For some reason, her eyes found mine right then, the sadness apparent. But she wasn't upset with me anymore evidently, or she would've looked away. Rather, she seemed to be pleading with me; the same look she used after Black forced himself on her in the closet. I had rescued her then; perhaps I could do it again. The thought invaded my mind before I could stop it, taking root and almost overruling the weak plans I had to try and salvage my family.

Then it struck me. Perhaps she was in the dark about the real reason for the evening's festivities and had just found out herself. Her expression suggested it. Little Black stood on the other side of his father, looking smug. Like he'd just found out the news too but would fare far better as a result.

Their fathers were the same arrogant-looking bastards that they always were. They didn't even show up to trial when they sued my father to within an inch of his existence. Maybe I shouldn't be surprised that Little Black is the way he is, but I was surprised that there appeared to be something more to Isabella.

After the applause died down, the mingling commenced and Isabella slowly made her way over towards me. My pulse sped up. This was a social taboo, the royalty mixing with the serfs. I had no idea what she was up to, but I was going to play by the rules and not look at her anymore. I would have to wait to figure out how to help her once I knew what was wrong. Until then I lowered my chin, focusing on the piano.

I could sense she was behind me before I heard her speak. When she finally spoke in my ear, it made my hands shake, screwing up my finger placement. I hit a few wrong keys, the sound screaming in my head. I hoped no one else noticed. I realized my hands weren't shaking with rage, like before. I held them as steady as I could to keep from drawing more attention to us. This type of hand shaking was new, foreign.

"What do you say about having a little fun with my family?" she whispered in my ear as she sat beside me on the bench, her back to the keys. I kept my eyes down. She was the one choosing to defy societal mores here, not me, but her words tempted me more than they should.

"What do you have in mind?" I snuck a glance at her out the corner of my eyes, as I tried to keep my enthusiasm cloaked. Her eyes were sad, but her face showed mischief, especially her lips.

"Do you know any blues, Edward? I know a slide guitar would be more appropriate for this song, but…" Wait. _She likes the blues? Or does she know that I _live_ for the blues?_ I was immediately reminded of Alice saying that if she knew who I was and what I was doing there, I'd be out on my ass. She had to know more than she was letting on.

My fingers hesitated for a second before I picked up again. Should I make a run for it now? Before she can call in the wolves? Should I take my chances on the forty-eighth floor or accept defeat and go home?

Or should I trust her, this girl I thought I understood, but obviously did not?

Again, I realized that I was taking a chance and breaking my own damn rule that I'd just made by even hearing her out. I was going to draw attention to myself by being part of her fun. Yet, something was pulling me in. For whatever reason I just couldn't deny her. "Song?" I asked with a heavy sigh, hoping I wouldn't regret this decision.

"Easy," she replied. "'Nobody's Girl.'"

I had never tried to combine that Bonnie Raitt song with classical music before but I was sure as hell going to try. I transitioned easily from the fluff I was playing into the introduction. I didn't know why she wanted to hear it, but perhaps it would make her feel better. If she wanted to have a little fun at the expense of her family, I was all for it.

It was very difficult for me to sit there, beside her, and not sing the song. I couldn't be passive when playing the blues. It was an unusual request, but not half as unusual as what happened next.

She began singing along. Softly, so only I could hear. With an achingly beautiful, clear voice.

_She don't need anybody to tell her she's pretty  
__She's heard it every single day of her life  
__He's got to wonder what she sees in him  
__When there's so many others standing in line  
__She gives herself to him but he's still on the outside  
__She's alone in this world  
__She's nobody's girl_

There was no way in hell that she should not have been singing more loudly, so I got her attention and nodded towards the microphone. She hesitated, but only until I smiled encouragingly. She took it from the stand and stood before continuing, moving to seat herself on the piano's top before facing me again.

With a start, I realized she was singing for _me_, not the forming crowd. I was baffled. I wasn't able to wrap my head around it.

_She does anything she wants any time she wants to  
__With anyone you know she wants it all  
__Still she gets all upset over the least little thing  
__Man you hurt her it makes you feel so small  
__And she's a walking contradiction  
__But I ache for her inside  
__She's fragile like a string of pearls, she's nobody's girl _

There was a smattering of applause that sounded slightly confused by what just transpired, but the smile she gave in acknowledgment was only for me. Before I knew what I was doing, I found myself applauding right along with everyone else. She had an extraordinarily sultry voice, beyond anything I'd heard coming from Julliard. Perfect for the blues.

Then, like a storm cloud coming to shit on our parade, Swan, Black and Scumball Junior approached the stage at the same time that the pianist came to relieve me. It was time for the announcement; she knew it and went rigid, the serenity draining from her face. Little Black, the fucker, put his hands on her waist and helped her down from the piano. She was openly repulsed at his touch.

I found Alice just off the stage and moved towards her. She looked at me apologetically, then said, "Everyone is here, it's a good time for you to go." I agreed and headed towards the stairs. I hesitated before opening the door and turned towards the stage. As much as it pained me to admit it, I had to know what all the damn fuss was about.

Daddy Black took the microphone from Isabella and was the first to speak. "Ladies and gentlemen, stockholders, board of governors. You've been kept in suspense for weeks now as to what our announcement tonight might be." He handed the microphone to Daddy Swan, who beamed at the crowd.

"Young Jacob here approached me a few months ago, asking for my Princess Isabella's hand in marriage." Raucous applause spread through the area until he spoke over the noise. "I did him one better and gave _our_ blessing, on behalf of her mother too, God rest her soul."

I hadn't rescued her in that closet. I'd interrupted the consummation of their engagement. Why had she asked me to kiss her? What a _fucking_ tramp. The tabloids were all true.

I looked at her standing there. She was just like the rest of her fucking family, no different. Why had I allowed her to play me? What the _fuck _was I thinking? As I looked at her standing on the small stage, her smile was as well rehearsed and as fake as her tits. She searched the crowd for someone and her eyes stopped as she met mine. Her eyes shone with tears. But those were probably fake, too. Crocodile tears.

I walked through the door, just as I heard Jackass Junior take the microphone. "I proposed to her a half hour ago, in the coat check closet, of all places!" Fuckers. The lot of them. Especially her. Deceptive, conniving.

What was I _thinking_? I was ashamed of myself. I'd allowed myself to be distracted from the mission at hand. My anger broke through the wall I'd put it behind. I swear in that moment I saw red. I took a deep breath, trying to get a grip.

With renewed determination, I made it to the office floor and slowly opened the door, realizing immediately that there was a security desk and two armed guards. Of course. Of fucking course. This is how it works now. Sonofa_fucking_bitch. I let the door close softly and hoped that they didn't hear or see me.

I had no idea what to do now. Alice couldn't have had any idea about the security when she told me where to look. I felt my resolve start to crack. To come this far for answers and be unable to go any further was a kick to the nuts. Hell, it was like having them ripped off.

I wanted to fall on the floor and cry, but I didn't let myself. I needed to unleash this anger that burned so bright in my soul somehow. I turned around to punch something—my eyes settled on the cinder block wall. It would do just fine. Broken knuckles would cap the night off great.

I pulled my fist back, ready to let the wall have it, only to abruptly drop it again.

_She _was standing right there.

"What the fuck, Princess!" I was jumpy and punch drunk. My hands found my messy hair and buried themselves in it. If I couldn't assault the wall, I could at least tear out a few handfuls of hair to feel something else. Anything else.

Then I realized I could've accidentally punched _her_, sending her toppling down the stairs behind her. I suddenly remembered that earlier this evening I had _wanted_ to punch her, just not accidentally. That thought made me sicker than anything else had all night.

"My name is not Princess… it's Bella." She tried, momentarily, to keep her tough shell in place before bursting into tears. The kind of tears that usually embarrassed the fuck out of me. This time, all I wanted to do was comfort her despite my hatred of her family, what they had done to my family, and what she was doing to me now.

Then I realized deep down I knew they were doing the same thing they'd done to my family to her, their own flesh and blood. She would not fare well in her marriage. If he gave her a ring, she wasn't wearing it.

Goddamnit.

Goddamnit! Damn her for making me feel these things!

I looked at her, my anger dissolving as soon as my eyes found her face. Her eyes were closed as I reached out to comfort her but caught myself, thankful that some part of my mind was still functioning properly, and snapped my hand back. "What are you doing here?"

Her sobs and shudders lessened just enough for her to speak. "I needed to get out of there, and figured you'd be here."

"Shouldn't you be celebrating your engagement?" I spat, hoping to sound as upset as I felt. "Why do you care where I am?" I made a move to brush past her, and get the fuck out of here.

"Because I want to help you." Her answer stopped me mid-stride.

"What?" I turned around to look at her, shock and awe apparent on my face.

"Just do as I say." She moved around me to the door, fully focused now. "Tell them I want to lie down on my father's couch."

"What?" I repeated. I couldn't even describe how confused and conflicted I was feeling.

She opened the door and unleashed the torrent of tears again. She approached the security desk and both men stood, recognizing immediately who she was. She left me no choice but to follow her.

"She would like to rest on her father's couch," I stated this fact like nothing mattered more, somehow suddenly entirely capable of lying to armed men.

"Of course." They opened the glass doors for her but stepped in front of me.

"He's with me. My escort," she mumbled through her still flowing tears.

One of the security guards placed a heavy hand on my shoulder to stop me. "Credentials?"

"Felix…" she started, almost shocked that they would question her.

"It's okay," I fished in my pocket for the fake ID, confidence still oozing from my voice. He examined it carefully before handing it back.

"Thank you, Mr. Bumbershoot." I would have to remember to thank Jasper somehow for having shady connections.

"Please page me if my father comes up, won't you?" She bat her eyelashes at them and they both nodded like buffoons.

"Yes, Ms. Isabella," they replied eagerly.

"Bumbershoot, huh?" she asked as we walked down the beautifully marbled floors towards the large cherry wood doors of her father's office. "Ever been to the music festival?"

"Once, a long time ago." Her question caught me off guard.

"Going back?"

"Not anytime soon, unless I'm there to sell expensive lemonade that tastes like shit."

She shrugged at the remark. I needed to know what she knew—about me, about my father, about her own father. I needed to know that I wasn't heading into a trap, but, I didn't know how to ask without ruining this very odd change in circumstance.

She waved her finger over the biometric security device just outside the door and opened it swiftly. There was no one inside and the office was lush and very private. I remembered my father telling me about it once, describing its opulence was off-putting and didn't sit well with him. Now that I was seeing it for the first time myself, I couldn't have agreed more.

Once the doors shut, she pressed a series of buttons along the wall, sliding the wooden panels across the office's glass walls. She approached a large cabinet and pushed a few buttons, activating the sound system that piped music from everywhere. The music was louder than normal conversation. She walked to me and pulled me into the center of the room, away from where I hoped to find my father's freedom.

"May I have this dance?" she asked. Once again, she took me by surprise. Dance? Weren't we supposed to be looking for files, notes, signatures? I eyed the cabinets longingly and sighed. She had done nothing but surprise me all night and if she wanted to dance, I couldn't see the harm in it.

"Certainly," I answered, the confidence fading from my tone. She said she wanted to help, and she had gotten me much further than I'd dared to dream. Minutes ago I had reached rock bottom, ready to abandon my mission. Now, here I was, in Swan's office, _thisclose_ to what I needed.

I slipped one hand around her waist and offered her the other. She was light on her feet, no doubt from countless hours of dance lessons. I'd had them too, a lifetime ago. I smiled minutely at the recollection, but she caught it.

She placed her cheek beside mine and began to hum along with the music. We moved slowly in small circles as the music played. Her frame, though several inches shorter than mine, fit into every curve of my body. The sensation was almost more than I could process, so I just let it go and enjoyed the moment. _It would all end soon._

Finally, she spoke. "What do you need from me, Edward Cullen?"

The lightning bolt of realization hit me again, and I jerked back, releasing her from my grasp. She looked at me, stoic, confident in her knowledge. She knew exactly who I was and still brought me to the place where I could find answers. I had underestimated her entirely and felt an overwhelming shame.

I moved back to her, and pulled her back into my arms, tighter this time, both hands wrapped daringly low around her waist. We danced once more. Her cheek was beside mine when I returned the question, remembering what she preferred being called. "What do _you_ need from _me_, Bella Swan?"

"I have a proposition for you, Edward. I believe we can reach a mutually desirable outcome tonight. And we can both walk away with what we need. Game?"

I was dying to hear it. "What do you have in mind?"

"I will get you what you need, and you, in return, will get me out."

My heart began to pound impossibly harder. She knew there was still evidence. She took her time dancing because she knew right where it was. "Why would you help me?"

"Because I know right from wrong. I was privy to a lot of the inner details of your father's trials and I said nothing. I need to make it right. And by making it right, I can stop living like this. And _he_ will leave me be. They'll all leave me be," her voice trailed off as, I can only assume, she realized the gravity of her words.

"You understand you'll lose everything by helping me," I insisted.

She turned to face me then, her eyes boring into mine. "Will I?"

I staggered. She couldn't mean… could she? "You'll… you'll lose all your money, your friends, your homes, your reputation," I clarified. "I've been there. I know."

That set her off. "I don't want money, or homes. I don't have friends and don't you dare presume that I want to keep my reputation."

I held her tighter as the song changed, hoping to give her one more chance to change her mind before she potentially lost it all. "I know the consequences of the choice you're making. I am homeless with few friends, I've lost my reputation and I have no money to care for my mother or defend my father."

"It's _my _father that belongs in prison, not yours. I'm tired of living a lie and if by losing everything I gain my freedom, then so be it. Will you help me?"

She may have led a more privileged life, but by not having the freedom to do what she wanted with that life she literally had nothing. Without thinking I said, "I would very much like to kiss you Bella."

"I am engaged," she whispered.

"Are you?"

She tilted her head back, giving me the answer to my question. Knowing that her life was about to be destroyed, I was arrogant enough to believe I would give her one last glimpse of happiness. Perhaps I was giving myself the same thing. Even if my father was released, his reputation in the medical community may never be restored, and my mother may never get better.

Her lips tasted so sweet. I was ashamed that I was in such a hurry to consume her earlier. Neither of us wanted more. Just a simple kiss that I couldn't help but feel should've been our first. We both pulled away, satisfied.

"Mmm." She smiled and licked her lips. I smiled in response, glad to see that my moment of happiness had been mutual.

She froze in my arms as we heard an intercom buzz on her father's desk. "Ms. Swan, your father is on his way to his office."

"Does he know I'm here, Demitri?"

"No, ma'am, but he asked if I'd seen you."

"Thank you." The flash of fear in her eyes was immediate and frightened me as well. Charles was looking for Bella. I had prepared for a physical fight earlier, and I may just get my chance if he caught us. The security guards were another matter altogether...

She hesitated and looked up at me, awaiting my answer. "Yes, of course I will help you. I need my father's original memos, dated anytime in the spring before the vaccine was tested and signed by your father and Black that it was read by them."

Bella ran to her father's desk, released the window panels and opened the desk drawer. She pulled out several thick files while signaling to me that the music needed to be turned off and that I should remain silent. I wondered briefly how many times she'd come here and looked at those pages, knowing they would be her key to freedom. She grabbed the file and directed me towards a hidden exit in the wall. It was apparent that she had done this before, too.

As soon as we quietly closed the door, we heard the security system release the lock on the office's main doors. We could hear a woman's drunken giggles and her father's gruff voice as the music was turned back on. Bella looked at me then, her disgust obvious and indicated that I should wait where I was in the small room. I hadn't noticed until then that she had led us to a vault room foyer. She entered a code and opened the vault, grabbing a messenger bag that she'd likely prepared for herself.

She quickly led us out another exit and down a flight of stairs, breathless and overjoyed. She didn't seem concerned about her safety at all, which concerned me. "I knew… who you were. I watched the trials and saw how you were there, every day, vigilantly standing by your parents. The moment I laid eyes on you in that kitchen I knew who you were. I knew this was our… my… our chance. Your father's freedom and my own. It was me who told Alice which floor the offices were on. That's how I knew where to meet you."

I took her hand then, as I knew time was of the essence. I was determined to get her out too. She had to come with me or she might go down with the rest of them.

We found an elevator and I pressed the parking garage button. She pressed the button for the forty-first floor, where the kitchen was. "What are you doing?" I demanded.

She was beaming at me. "I need to tell Alice that you got out safely. She deserves to know, she's been helping you all along too."

"You're coming with me."

"I'm not." She opened the messenger bag and put in the files, zipping it swiftly before I could see what else it contained. "Do you realize, that even while my father was raking your father across the coals, Carlisle continued to work on that influenza vaccine? Working for my family meant that the patent was theirs. Isn't that a kick in the ass? They held on to the patent's profits in cash, just in case the feds came snooping for records of the originator."

Her face was flush with excitement. What she was telling me spoke volumes about what she knew and didn't have time to share. "Bella. You have to come with me. I can hide you, protect you." She placed her small hand on my face, trying to calm me as we landed on the forty-first floor. I hit the DOOR CLOSE button.

"You already do protect me," she smiled. "Don't forget me. Take care of your mother and say hello to your father. Three years is a long time to be without him."

I wanted to scream. This was the right thing to do and she knew it, I knew it too. But I didn't have to like it. To rise from the ashes, she had to go up in the flames.

"I swear. Someday." I kissed her then, the same sweet kiss as before but this time tinged with something I hadn't felt in years. I wanted her to taste it in my kiss, something I had lost and suddenly felt again. I needed to share it because I had nothing else to give.

"Mmm… hope," she smiled, releasing the elevator button and stepping into the kitchen hallway.

"Thank you for my father's freedom," I offered lamely.

"Thank you for mine," she smiled, tears falling from her eyes. I stepped out of the elevator and moved to hug her, but she pushed me back, meeting halfway and allowing the embrace to continue. "You have to go," she whispered in my ear. "I put the keys to the Ducati in your pocket as well as Alice's cell phone."

As we allowed the doors to close, I could hear Jacob's voice demanding to know where Bella was and Alice's voice attempting to calm him. I caught a glimpse of her closing her eyes and smiling as the door sealed. I wanted to go back and get her. It hurt.

During the elevator ride, I let it out. I screamed and punched the walls. There were tears of anger, tears of relief, tears of hope. I opened the messenger bag to find the files of not only my father, but of others. There was a lot of cash in that bag. It wasn't pay off money. It was the patent money my father would've earned had he been allowed to stay.

I made it to the parking garage and started the Ducati. Remembering Introduction to Basic Scooter one-oh-one, I started it up and sped off. I stopped several blocks away and called Jasper. "Jasper, it's Edward. Man I did it, we did it. You need to come to the Black Swan building and get Alice. She was awesome. If you don't marry her, I just might. I'll contact you again as soon as I can."

I hung up then, wishing I had a way to find out if Bella was okay. Instead, I headed to the hospital where I knew the visiting hours were over. Mom had to know. Tonight. She had to know that her husband was coming home.

We were all finally free.


	3. Chapter 3: Getting Out

**Disclaimer: **All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

I took the money and the files to the authorities the next morning after spending the night hiding out. Bella had given me two hundred and fifty thousand dollars and I gave the person in charge every penny of it. They told me to lay low until the Black Swan trials took place. Just in case.

Dad was released within ninety days and his money was released to him then. Mom held on as long as she could after Dad got out. We rented a piano and I played for her several hours each day. They got to spend a few amazing weeks together, away from the hospital and in the sun before she passed. The loss of her took a great toll on us both, but Dad turned his grief into determination. He got his medical license back and started looking for a cure for kidney disease. He wanted me to go back to Julliard. I'd considered it.

Jasper did as I asked and married Alice before I could. A little one would be coming this summer - a girl. Alice asked if I minded sharing the name Esme. I didn't. Not really.

The Blacks and Swans were shipped to the same prison that dad lived in. They had a lot of people pissed at them and the whole company went under. It was pretty sensational to begin with, but as the years passed, the news slowly faded away.

Jasper and Alice wanted me to get out there and try dating. I felt really conflicted about that, as I tried keeping in contact with Bella, who was sent to Washington State. We didn't promise anything, but we got to know each other pretty well through our letters and calls anyway.

I wanted to support her through her trial, but couldn't for my own safety. Those Black Swan fuckers had connections of the lethal sort.

About two weeks before Bella was scheduled to be released after a three year stay, I got a call that she was killed in a cafeteria fight. The press was so fickle; it barely made a passing mention in the news. The bitch of it was the day after I learned about her death I got a letter from her saying that she wanted to head to the next Bumbershoot festival with me right after she was released.

I didn't leave the house for months after that. Dad, Jasper and Alice did what they could to help me feel better. All their efforts were in vain; nothing helped. I felt like I was living the whole ordeal over again—the night I met Bella, dad's freedom and then losing mom, and now losing Bella. It was a cruel, cruel cycle.

In late summer, further proof of the cyclical effect my life had taken on, Alice bought me a plane ticket and a pass to Bumbershoot. At first I was pissed. But there was no way Al could have known what Bella and I had planned. After awhile, I accepted that it might give me some closure, so I went.

I visited some venues and went to some concerts. It was nice, but not enjoyable. I thought Bella would've liked it. One particularly muggy evening, I passed by a lemonade stand and thought of what I'd said to Bella the night we met: that the only way I'd be able to come to Bumbershoot was if I was selling expensive lemonade that tasted like shit. Grief hit me like a ton of bricks. Hoping I could sit alone with my pain, I decided to buy a cup, and then that would be it. When the lemonade was gone, I'd have to let her go.

I dug into my pocket for some money after ordering my lemonade. "How much?" I asked the counter attendant.

"That will be two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars, please."

My head snapped up. I had no words, I was speechless.

It was _her_. Bella. She was alive and beautiful as ever and asking me to pay her two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for a small lemonade that probably tasted like shit. And I was overjoyed.

She leapt up and I pulled her over the counter into my arms, knocking cups and napkins everywhere, and I began kissing her face with a reckless abandon that you only see in romantic comedies and chick flicks. I had to avoid her mouth though. Just in case this was a cruel dream. _Please don't let that be the case_, I pleaded to whoever would listen.

"You remembered," she whispered in my ear, voice tender and touched.

"I swore." And, suddenly, the whole thing was clear. She had to fake her own death and go into hiding because her family was still out to get her. "Alice?"

"She kept this secret too, yes." She looked at me then, searching my eyes. And I realized that she was, in fact, real when she said, "Don't drink the lemonade, it tastes like shit." And the loss I felt when she had "died" was replaced by something far greater. I kissed her, and it was as real as anything in my life.

We left the festival and headed to the nearest hotel where we made love for two straight days. We explored each other during that time and I came to appreciate the fact that every inch of her was indeed _very_ _real_. We were exhausted, but it was the best way to end one life and start another.

It didn't take me long to realize how much I fucking loved her. I fucking hated myself for presuming to know her before. But that was behind me. We could only make the most of the time allotted us. We didn't have a plan, only an opportunity, and we were going to use it.

**THE END**

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**A/N: **This is going to be a disgusting analogy, but there were three delightful women who helped me through this word vomit. My beta, **NotEventheTrees**, who held back my hair, cleaned up what she could and sprinkled better phrases throughout; my pre-reader, **skywlkrgrl**, for wiping my brow and refusing to let me when I just wanted to give up; and my WC partner, **Detochkina**, for taking the late shift and keeping my tense straight.


End file.
